No Matter the Vessel
by LylyWeasley
Summary: Cas' stolen grace messes with his vessel, turning him into a her. Sam and Dean do all in their power to reverse it. The song is "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" (the cover by Sleeping At Last) Pairings: Dean/Cas WARNING: Major Character Death Rated M for sexual content and violence


The crash echoed throughout the entire bunker. Sam and Dean ran out of their respective rooms, checking on the other. When they ran into one another in the hallway, they both said, "Cas."

"Where is he?" Sam asked.

"Bathroom?" Dean answered.

Even though he was an angel again, Cas hadn't given up the occasional human comforts, such as eating and showering, when he was with them. He had been out recruiting angels for his cause for the last few weeks and he'd only returned to the bunker two days ago.

"Should we, you know... check on him?" Sam asked, looking apprehensive.

"Yeah..." Dean said slowly, "I'll go. You go wait in the main room. Just in case something attacks."

Sam gave him a suggestive look that he ignored, making his way to the bathroom. When he reached the door, he paused. Maybe Cas had just knocked over a bottle of shampoo. Or... he was lying on the tile, bleeding into the drain. So, he knocked. There was no answer, so he knocked again, "Cas," he said tentatively, "You ok, buddy?"  
"Dean..." Came the muffled answer. His voice sounded odd, maybe he really had hit his head. "Dean," Cas said again, "I- I fear we may have a problem."

That was it. Not caring what he found inside, Dean pushed open the door. If Cas was naked and hurt, he'd deal with it. What he actually found was much stranger. In front of the mirror, gazing at the reflection in it, was what he supposed had to be Cas. Except, the person in front of the mirror, was a woman. She was soaking wet and completely naked. She turned to him, a terrified expression on her face. Dean was skeptical, until he saw the eyes that were fixed on him. They were a deep blue and the expression was painfully familiar.

"Cas?" Dean said hesitantly.

The girl ran her fingers through her long, wet hair and over her body, taking in the curves of her waist, hips, and breasts. When she looked back at him she said, in an almost comical forced low tone, "Dean," she cleared her throat, speaking at a higher pitch when she resumed, "Dean, I believe my vessel has been tampered with."

Rolling his eyes, Dean handed Cas a towel, "You don't say. Um... how exactly did this happen? And what the hell was the crash we heard?"  
Cas took the towel and wrapped it around the new body, "I slipped and pulled down a shelf with shampoo..." Cas gestured back to the fallen toiletries, "Then I got a look at myself and..." Cas shrugged, looking down at the changed vessel. "As to how," Cas continued, "I believe it may have something to do with my grace, you know, the one I stole. I've never heard of a vessel changing genders but... There wasn't exactly a handbook of how to handle the side effects of stealing another angel's grace."

Dean ran his fingers through his short hair. This was extremely complicated. He had no clue about the logistics of stolen grace and, therefore, had no clue on how to fix it. But what made it even worse was that he was getting very distracted by Cas' new body. Not that he hadn't felt this way around Cas' old body. Mostly, he was just distracted by Cas in general. But with him (her?) standing there, naked and wet, he just needed to get out of there.

"Dean?" Cas' voice brought him back to himself. When he looked back at the angel, Cas was squinting at him, head tilted slightly to the side. It was so endearingly Cas that he had to fight the impulse to laugh or to hug this new vessel.

"Erm..." he stammered, "Okay, uh, let's get you dressed... if we can find something you won't drown in." Cas hadn't been a small man, but this female was oddly short. However, he could still see the sinewy muscles that ran throughout her arms and shoulders. He was sure that they would run over her chest and stomach and back as well. But he didn't want to dwell on it or else he would be struggling to hide his growing boner even more than he already was.

"All right," Cas said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, "I will probably need help with my hair as well... It is better that I don't use my grace for trivial things right now. I'm not sure what will happen."

Dean rolled is eyes again, "Not may area, but I'm sure Sam could weigh in on that."

Nodding, Cas followed him out of the bathroom. He left her (him? This was very confusing for Dean) at her room, telling her to come out to the living room when she was dressed. When he had made his own way to the living room, he found Sam sitting on the the couch and looking at him expectantly.

"Is he ok?" Sam asked.

Massaging the bridge of his nose, Dean replied, "Yeah... I'm sure she'll be okay. A little shaken but..."

"I'm sorry," Sam interrupted, standing up and walking towards his brother, "Did you say 'she'?" he looked as though he was on the verge of laughter.

"Yes," he said, "I guess the funky grace is messing with Cas' body so he's... a she. And she needs help with her hair and that's your territory."

Sam flashed him 'bitch-face #723' but he didn't protest. Instead, he stared intently at Dean, "So, how are you?"

He raised his eyebrows at his younger brother, "How am I? That's a really weird question considering that I'm not the one who got turned into a chick."

But Sam didn't get a chance to elaborate. At that moment, Cas walked through the door in the familiar tan coat. It had been a shorter coat on his male body, but on this new body, it almost touched the ground. Cas had it completely buttoned so that it covered everything.

"It's like a dress, right?" Cas said plainly.

Sam covered his mouth, stifling his laughter, "Yep," he half coughed, "It looks- um.. it-"

"You look fine Cas," Dean cut it, slapping Sam on the arm, "But we'll probably have to take you shopping for something better." He felt ridiculous saying that. He knew nothing about women's clothing and had been hoping that it would stay that.

Cas walked over to the couch and sat down, trying to comb through the mess of damp hair that came with this new body. But no headway was being made with Cas' fingers. She looked so forlorn, just sitting there in that coat. But Dean had no clue what to say to make it better, so he just stood there awkwardly.

Luckily, Sam walked over to the couch, sat down next to Cas, and gave her a pat on the shoulder, "Hey, I'm gonna grab my comb and I'll help you out with the hair, alright?" Cas nodded, her blue eyes wide and Sam walked quickly from the room.

Strolling forward, Dean said, "How are you feeling, buddy?" Cas only shrugged, so Dean continued, "Um... about what we call you... You weren't really a 'him' before and we called you that. So... now?"

"You may used the pronouns that suit the vessel I am in, Dean," Cas said softly, looking up at him, "But thank you for asking. It is much appreciated. This is all so strange. I've been in female vessels before but, I was quite particular to Jimmy's form. So, to feel the same, yet look different is... quite confusing."

Dean finally took a seat on the couch, next to Cas, "I can only imagine. Look, we'll figure out a way to get you back. I promise."

She smiled at him, blue eyes sparkling. It was so exhilaratingly familiar that it sent a thrill through him, "Thank you Dean. You are a good friend." Suddenly, Cas covered her mouth and coughed. It was a painful sound and he saw that every time she coughed, bits of white-blue light escaped between her fingers and lit up her throat. When it had subsided, she turned back to him, "Don't worry," she said, seeing his perplexed face, "the grace is just... sometimes it burns the back of my throat."  
That sounded like something to worry about to him, but he didn't try and argue. Instead, he put a hand on her shoulder, marveling at how petite she was. "Are you sure you're okay, Cas?" He pulled her closer by the shoulder. They looked at one another for a moment or two. Cas parted her lips slightly and stared at him. Dean had an urge to kiss her. This wasn't an uncommon feeling with Cas either, even before this weird body switch. "Cas, I..."

"Alrighty then," came Sam's voice from the doorway. Dean pulled away from Cas suddenly. "Come on, Cas," Sam said, "Let's comb... your..." he stopped, looking at them on the couch, "Um..."

Dean stood up abruptly, "Go ahead, Sam. I'm completely useless with this." He went over to his other chair and watched as Sam sat down with Cas.

"This is probably gonna hurt a little," Sam said as he started to pull the comb through Cas' hair.

"Sam," Cas said, "I am a celestial being. I have fought demons, been blown apart and been brought back. I'm sure I can deal with a piece of plastic in my- ow!" she squeaked as Sam caught a snarl. Dean had to suppress his laughter.

After nearly twenty minutes of squeaks and outcries of pain, Cas' hair had been combed and put into a braid. She held her hair between her fingers and twirled it. Sam caught Dean staring as she did this and Dean immediately looked away. It was bad enough that he'd seen them on the couch.

"Dean," Sam said, catching Dean off guard and making him jump, "Can I talk to you? Cas, you wanna watch TV or something and then we'll take you to get some clothes?"  
"That sounds good," Cas said, grabbing the remote, "Anyway, I believe Dr. Sexy is on." It was still strange having Cas understand pop culture references but at least it came with a new interest in television. On their nights off, Dean had gotten Cas into Dr. Sexy M.D. And Game of Thrones.

Sam gestured for Dean to follow him into the hallway, "What are we gonna do about this?" he asked.

Dean shrugged, "Hell, if I know."

A renewed fit of coughing sounded from the living room. Both of them looked in and saw Cas, hunched over and hacking, flashes of grace came from between her hands and she was grimacing. This fit was much longer than the last and when it was over, Cas looked tired. She cleared her throat and smoothed back her hair. She also had a worried look on her face.

Sam turned back to Dean, "Dude, this could go bad fast. I didn't know grace could do this."

"Me neither," he said, "And it's already going bad fast. Last time Cas coughed, it wasn't nearly that violent." He looked back at her. She was smiling slightly at the TV now.

It was Sam's voice that brought him back, "Besides Cas' health though, what are you gonna do?"

"Me?" he shook his head, "I have no clue what the hell you're talking about."

"Are you kidding me, Dean? I've seen the way you look at Cas. The way you've always looked at Cas," Sam said, "You're in love with that angel, no matter what body."

Dean internally cringed at the L word. He didn't like to use it... no matter if it was true or not. "And? If I am? There's nothing to do about it. Cas is an angel, like you said. No way an angel's going for me."

Sam shook his head, "Whatever you say, man. I just always thought it was the male vessel holding you back. Now that Cas looks like a girl... it seems as good a time as any to make a move."  
It was a compelling idea. The only thing that kept Dean from going out there and sweeping her off her feet was the fact that he didn't want Cas to think he wanted her because she was a she. He had these thoughts long before this little mishap. He wanted Cas for Cas, not the vessel. But what was wrong with him? With both of them? Here they were, talking about ways to get him laid, when Cas' grace was so messed up that it was getting coughed up and confusing Cas' vessel.

"First," Dean said, not taking his eyes off of Cas, "We have to try and fix this. We don't know how bad it'll get. And I'll be damned again before I let Cas die." He finally looked back at Sam. His brother had his arms crossed and was looking at him very closely. "What?"

"Nothing," Sam said, "It's just nice seeing you again. Ever since that," he gestured to the Mark of Cain on Dean's right forearm, "I feel like you've been ghosting around here. It's nice that the real you came out."

He shrugged, "Just trying to do the job, Sammy. Now, let's go get Cas some proper clothes."

The trip to the store was interesting, to say the least. Cas got a lot of stared because she was only wearing a giant, buttoned coat, but she also got checked out a lot. Every time a strange man's eyes lingered on Cas, Dean felt his face get red and warm. Sam kept catching his gaze and Dean would clear his throat and move a little closer to Cas. He didn't trust anyone out in public like this.

"Do I have to pick out dresses?" Cas asked.

"You can get anything you want," Sam said, "We just want you to have something that fits you because we don't know how long you'll be this way."

Cas nodded and they let her wander around the store. Dean and Sam waited by the changing rooms while she brought in piles of clothes from both the men and women's sections. It felt like hours before Cas came out.

"How do I look?" she asked, causing both of them to look up.

Cas was standing there in a white blouse and black dress pants. The blouse had three quarter sleeves, but was very simple. Se had the top two buttons undone and the top fell into a graceful V down her sternum. The pants weren't too tight, but they tapered to her hips very well. Now, more than ever, Dean could see the familiar posture in this strange vessel as well as in the approval-seeking look on her face.

"One second," Dean said. He went back into the section, searching. When he had found what he was looking for, he came back. He slipped the petite, tan waistcoat onto her lithe frame. He then stepped back to admire the ensemble, "There. Now you look like you."

Cas smiled, pulling the coat out by the lapels and looking down at herself, "Thank you, Dean. The familiarity is comforting."

Dean smiled, "No problem, Cas."

When Cas had gone back into the changing room to put her original coat back on, Sam turned to his older brother with raised eyebrows, "Who knew you were suck a huge softie."

"I have my moments," Dean mumbled, "I can't help it if I want Cas to feel the best about this whole shitty situation."

They bough the outfit and some undergarments and headed back to the bunker. As soon as they reached it, Cas hopped out of the Impala and bounded to her room. A few minutes later, she emerged, dressed in her new clothes. Both Dean and Sam were glad that Cas was happy. That night, they gathered on the couch to marathon Season 3 of Game of Thrones.

It was almost two in the morning before they all headed to bed. It was Sam knocking over the popcorn when his head drooped, that put the halt in their marathon. But Dean was glad, he had been having trouble keeping his eyes open. Cas didn't need to sleep, but they still had a room set aside for her. She said that it felt good to know that she had a place at the bunker if she needed it. After saying good night to Sam and Cas, he found himself drifting to sleep quicker than he had in weeks. As his brain fell into dreams, the last thing he thought of was a pair of deep, blue eyes...

But he was awake in what felt like moments. He checked his clock: it was only three thirty. Why was he awake? That's when he heard it. There was an awful retching noise coming from somewhere close to him. Cas. Dean hopped out of bed, not even bothering to throw on a shirt. He ran down the hallway in his boxers. When he reached Cas' room, he knocked softly. There was no answer, only another hack. Slowly, he opened the door. Cas was sitting on the bed, trash can up to her mouth. It sounded like she was puking, a flash of light illuminating her throat and lighting up the garbage can. Wordlessly, Dean walked over, sat down next to Cas, and patted her on the back. Cas looked up at him, breathing heavily.

"Did I wake you?"

Dean chuckled, in spite of himself, "Well, yeah, but it's fine. Seriously. Are you ok?"

Cas smiled weakly, "Yes, I'm all right." She hunched over and more grace forced its way from her throat. She shook against his palm. It felt as though she had a terrible fever.

"Bullshit," Dean said, rubbing her back some more, "You're really sick. How do we fix this? Get you more grace? Tell me."

Clearing her throat, Cas set down the trash can and looked at Dean sadly, "There isn't anything you can do, Dean. I am dying. I've known this for a while." She touched the Mark of Cain, "It seems the both of us are on the path to destruction."

Dean could feel the Mark burn beneath Cas' touch, but he did not pull away. Instead, he said angrily, "You knew? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because," she said, "You would have killed yourself trying to save me. And you can't. You can't save everyone, my friend. Though you try."

Shakes wracked her body as she fell against Dean. He pursed his lips, biting back his furious retort. Now wasn't the time to fight. He would find a way to save Cas, he swore it. "You get some rest," he said, laying her onto the mattress, "We'll figure it out in the morning."

As he made to get up, Cas grabbed his wrist, "Dean..." she whispered, "Stay. Please."

Holding back tears, Dean settled in under the covers next to Cas. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. There had to be a way to fix this. Dean was determined that the next time he held Cas, it would be because everything was back to normal. He and Cas would have a long life together. Softly he brushed the top of her head with his lips. There had to be a way.

Dean awoke the next morning in an empty bed. Slightly panicked, he hopped up and checked the clock. It was nine in the morning. He had slept longer that night than he had in ages. But the problem still remained: where was Cas? He stepped out into the hallway and was met with Sam stepping out of his own room. He raised his eyebrows at Dean and smirked.

"What?" he asked defensively. Sam nodded at the door to Cas' room. "It's not what you think," he explained, "Cas was having some grace problems so... I stayed. Sammy, we have serious problems."

"When don't we?" Sam quipped.

"No, really bad. Cas says this thing with the grace is killing her."

That wiped the smirk off of Sam's face, "Is she still sleeping?"

He shook his head, "I woke up alone."

Not caring that he still didn't have anything more than his boxers on, Dean followed Sam down the hall to the kitchen. When they reached it, they saw Cas bustling around at the stove in Jimmy Novak's overlarge dress shirt. Both of them sighed audibly in relief. The rush of affection Dean felt as she stood on her tiptoes to grab something from a cabinet was overwhelming. For a moment, he had truly feared that Cas was gone.

Turning and catching sight of them, Cas smiled, "Good morning. I made coffee and I'm making omelets. I hope that's okay."

"Totally fine, Cas," Sam replied, "Want some help?"

"I should be okay, but thank you Sam."

The younger Winchester sat down at the table and said, "So, how'd you sleep last night?"

Cas' eyes flicked to Dean for a second before answering, "I slept well, thank you. And you?"  
But Dean didn't hear Sam's answer. He had zoned out completely. He was happy that Cas was walking around this morning, but something was off. Even though Cas was smiling, there were dark circles beneath her eyes. Beneath the cheery disposition, she looked worn out. He knew Sam saw it too, he just wanted to keep the morning conversation away from death by grace. But, if they didn't talk about it now, when would they? Were they going to wait until it was too late? Dean didn't think he could handle that. Knowing he would start yelling soon, he turned and headed back to his own room. He knew he should get dressed, but he didn't feel like it. His head was buzzing from what Cas had said last night about there being no way to save her. He also couldn't get the feel of Cas, wrapped in his arms, out of his brain. If there was no stopping this, then he really should take Sam's advice and tell Cas how he felt... But he couldn't think about that. He wouldn't think of a life without Cas.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting on his bed before there was a knock at the door. He called that it was okay to come in and Cas peeked in. "Food's ready," she said, "If you're hungry. Or I'll bring some to you if you'd rather be alone."

Dean ran a hand through his hair, "No, I'll come out. Sorry I'm being so out of it this morning."

Cas came over and sat next to him on the bed, "You're allowed." She looked at the Mark of Cain, but didn't say anything else. After sitting quietly for a minute, she continued, "Sam told me that you told him about my condition."

Dean nodded, "He needed to know."

"It's fine," Cas said, "That makes it easier, that you both know."

"We're gonna find a way to save you, Cas," he said, "Do you hear me? And I'm not gonna let anything, even you, stop me."

Cas chuckled, "I suppose it wouldn't be like you not to try," she looked at her feet, "About last night... I'm sorry if I put you in an uncomfortable position. I left early this morning so things wouldn't be awkward."

"Cas," Dean held up a hand, "It's fine. I'm here to help you. So, if you need me to stay with you, I will. That's what friends are for. Okay?"

She nodded, "Okay. Come on, the food will get cold." She got up and walked out of his room.

'That's what friends are for?' he thought. How stupid was he, to say that? Last night, they'd crossed over just friends and now he'd reeled it back in. Cas and Sammy were just friends and he was pretty sure that Sam wouldn't spoon Cas all night. But that was a problem for another time. His stomach was rumbling and breakfast smelled amazing.

Over the next week and a half, not much changed. They all decided that Cas shouldn't use much grace in order to preserve what was left. This, unfortunately, meant that when they left for a few cases, Cas was stuck at the bunker. She had tried to argue, but a coughing fit only proved Dean's point that she was too weak. Luckily, the cases were simple salt and burns so they were never gone long.

When they were home, Dean spent his nights in Cas' room. Sometimes he stayed up all night watching, but other times he would hold Cas and fall asleep. But whenever Cas started coughing or retching, Dean was alert and ready with a damp towel from her forehead or back. Sam was kept busy with research when they weren't hunting. He read over five gigantic volumes of spells and lore in three days and didn't stop there. It was evident however that, despite not using the grace, Cas was fading fast. Most days, she'd only have the energy to walk from her bed to the couch. She'd always try and keep a smile on, but it was getting harder and harder to fake being all right.

Lately, Dean had taken to playing for Cas on an old guitar he'd found in the storage of the bunker. He'd taught himself to play back in high school so he was rusty. But Cas didn't care. So, when he wasn't researching with Sam, he'd put on a small concert in the sitting room or read fiction books to her. They were in the middle of The Hobbit. Sam had said that Charlie would approve when he saw them one day.

"I don't know what to do, Sammy," Dean said one day, two and a half weeks after Cas had changed, "We've called other hunters, we've looked in every book we could think of and more, and we can't find anything about grace sickness or whatever the hell this is!"

Sam massaged the bridge of his nose, "I know, Dean. Maybe it's like Cas said. Maybe she'll die no matter what."

Dean launched forward, his forearm across Sam's throat, pinning him to the wall, "Don't you dare say that! There has to be a way to fix this. What are we gonna do if Cas dies, huh? What the hell am I gonna-?" He pulled away, releasing Sam and running his hand over the Mark of Cain. As Cas got weaker, the Mark's hold had gotten stronger. He found himself getting angry faster and jumping to violence more easily. "I'm sorry, Sammy."

He waved it off, "It's fine. I get it. We're both stressed, okay? Why don't you go look in on Cas and I'll keep looking for... something."

Nodding, Dean went into the living room. Cas was wrapped in a blanket on the couch with the television on. From what he could tell, Cas was watching Spongebob.

Looking up at him, Cas said, "I understand that this is fictional but, the notion of a sponge making burgers and a squid who cannot play the clarinet is just strange."

He smiled and sat next to her, "Yeah, I guess," he turned off the TV, "How are you feeling?"

Cas licked her chapped lips, "Hungry. But, no other change. Although, I am experiencing... Cabin fever? Is that the correct phrase?"

"Yeah," he said, "Sorry that you're antsy. I wish that we could go for a walk or something. But, I can help the hungry. What would you like? I'll get you something."

She furrowed her brow in thought, stifling a few coughs before answering, "Just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, please." When he returned with the sandwich, Cas said, "Thank you, Dean. Um... would you play something for me? Please?"

"Of course," he grabbed the guitar from the corner and sat down across from her on the couch, "Any requests?"

"Something slow," she said.

He swallowed nervously. Most days, he tried to play dance tunes and rock songs. He stayed away from love songs and slow songs for fear that he wouldn't be able to get through them. "Uh... sure." He started plucking the strings of the guitar, playing an arrangement of a song he'd heard on the radio the other day and taught himself to play. "Though I tried before to tell her all the feelings I have for her in my heart," he sang, looking up at Cas. She was smiling. The first real smile he'd seen in days. He continued, "Every time that I come near her, I just lose my nerve as I've done from the start." He could feel his throat tightening. He was sure he couldn't do this, but the look in her blue eyes spurred him on, his voice getting stronger, "Every little thing she does is magic. Everything she does just turns me on. Even though my life before was tragic, now I know my love for her goes on..."

Dean's voice cracked on the last word and he could feel the tears building in his eyes, especially when he sang the bridge, "I resolve to call her up a thousand times a day and ask her if she'll marry me, in some old fashioned way. But my silent fears will grip me long before I reach the phone, long before my tongue has tripped me. Must I always be alone?" He thought about his days in Purgatory, praying to Cas every night. How many times had he almost told Cas how he felt? He'd lost count. And now it could be too late. His tears splashed onto the guitar as he put all his unspoken feelings into the final chorus, "Every little thing she does is magic. Every thing she does just turns me on. Even though my life before was tragic, now I know my love for her goes on."

He strummed the final chord and put the guitar down, surreptitiously wiping his eyes. When he looked at Cas, he saw that she was still smiling. But her eyes looked a little pink, as if she'd been holding back tears herself. "That was beautiful," she said, "Thank you."

"Anything for you, Cas," he said. And it was true. He would do anything. "You should probably rest."

Cas nodded, "Stay?" she asked sleepily.

"'Course."

Cas scoot over to Dean and leaned on his chest, still cocooned in the blanket. Dean held her close, stroking her hair. It only took a few minutes for her to fall asleep. It was a little disconcerting to hear how shallow and labored her breathing was now. It also felt like she had a constant fever now too. There was a light sheen of sweat on her forehead but she wouldn't stop shivering.

"How's Cas?" came Sam's voice from the other side of the room. He came over and sat down in the chair next to the couch.

"It's not looking good, Sammy," he said, looking at the sleeping Cas on his chest, "She's dying and there's nothing we can do."

Sam sighed, "I know. You gotta tell her, Dean. You'll only hate yourself if Cas dies and you never said anything."

"I'd rather live with never saying anything then say something and watch her slip away," Dean mumbled, "So, nothing?"

"Nothing," Sam sighed, "Well, I picked up the trail on some demons a few miles from here. But that's it. Nothing for Cas."

"Have any idea what the demons are up to?"

"Looks like harvesting more souls."

Dean stiffened, "We have to do something."

"That's what I thought," Sam said sternly, "You want me to go take care of it? You can watch after Cas."

"No," said a soft voice. Dean looked down and saw that Cas' eyes were wide and alert. She sat up, "We'll all go."

"You can't," Dean countered, "You're not strong enough."

"I've been feeling better, even if I don't look it. Besides, you'll need the extra power," Cas muttered.

"You can't use yourmojo," Dean protested.

She stared him down, her blue eyes cold as ice, "Then give me a blade. Or a gun. You need me. I can help."

After almost thirty minutes of arguing, Dean finally gave in. Cas went back to her room, leaving Sam and Dean to pack. "I'm going to throttle that winged bastard!" Dean exclaimed, throwing a gun into his duffle.

"Calm down," Sam said, "Maybe Cas really is feeling better. Maybe your care is magical," he flashed his older brother a cheesy smile.

Dean punched him in the shoulder, "This is serious, douche-bag. I'll go crazy if anything happens to Cas."

"I appreciate your concern, Dean. But, I assure you, I'm fine," came a voice from the doorway. Both of them turned to see Cas, looking good as new. She wore her dress pants, blouse, and tan waistcoat. Her face was determined and her eyes sparkled in a familiar way.

"You sure you're felling okay, Cas?" Sam asked.

"I feel perfect."

The abandoned warehouse was only five miles away so t didn't take long to get there. When they got out of the car, they gathered up their weapons and proceeded quietly. Peeking around into the warehouse, they were greeted with a grisly sight. There was blood all over the walls and floor and a person tied to a chair at the center of the room.

Dean turned to them, "Sam, go find the souls. Cas and I will free that person. Keep weapons up and exorcisms on hand." Sam nodded and headed around the perimeter of the building. Cas and Dean headed in.

"Something isn't right," Cas whispered, "Everything's too quiet." Cas could feel something off in the room, but her grace was faint so she couldn't pin point exactly what had her uneasy.

They had reached the person in the center of the room now. A girl was tied up, unconscious. As Dean began untying her, he said, "I know, but we can't just leave civilians in danger." Just as he undid the last knot, the girl's eyes sprang open. They were pitch black. Faster than either one of them could move, the demon had drawn a knife and plunged it between Dean's ribs.

"DEAN!" Cas screamed, drawing her angel blade, "Exorcisamus te. Omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica protesta-" but the demon raised its arm, propelling Cas backwards. She hit the wall and saw as Dean collapsed. Using angelic strength, she threw the blade as far as she could, causing it to fly straight through the demon's eye. It screamed, falling to the ground. Dead.

Cas coughed profusely, more grace dissipating into the air. Once she could breathe again, she ran to where Dean was on the ground. Pulling her blade from the demon's skull, she called, "Sam! Help!"

Sam burst through the doors, "The souls are gone. What happened?"

"It was a trap," Cas gasped, putting pressure over the large wound on Dean's side, "He got stabbed, I think it punctured his lung. You have to let me heal him."

"No," Sam said, picking Dean up and walking back to the Impala, "He'd kill me for endangering you."  
Cas pulled Sam back by the shoulder, "Sam, I do not matter in this situation. If your situations were reversed, he'd have me heal you in a second whether I died or not. He'd give everything for you."

"I know, Cas. But I'm not him. And you don't know how much he'd give up for you," Sam kept walking.

Once back in the Impala, Cas kept pressure on Dean's wound in the back seat while Sam sped back to the bunker. Dean opened his eyes for a moment, "Am I dead?"

"Not yet, you bastard," Cas spat, "We're going to save you."

Sam pulled to a sudden halt, grabbed Dean, and carried him inside where he was thrown onto the kitchen table. He cut Dean's shirt off,revealing a deep gash, "Watch his breathing," Sam said to Cas, "I'll see if I can patch him up."  
Cas went up by Dean's head, "You're going to be okay, Dean. Sam, just let me heal him."

"Don't... you... dare..." Dean gasped suddenly. His breathing was ragged while Sam tried to staunch the bleeding. His eyes were wide as he choked out, "Cas... I'm sorry. I- I should have said..."

"Shh," Cas said, "You'll have plenty of time to say what you need to later." Dean gagged on his own blood as he closed his eyes. Then, without warning, his breathing stopped. "Dean?" she asked, putting a hand to his face, "Dean? Oh god, Sam! We're losing him!" She circled around and began pumping his heart and giving him mouth to mouth, "Sam?"

But Sam had stopped moving and he was looking at his big brother in shock, "Cas, stop. He's gone."

Cas didn't stop. She kept breathing into his mouth and pumping Dean's chest like her life depended on it. "No! God dammit, I won't let him die!"

Sam grabbed her arm, "Cas, he doesn't have enough blood to circulate. He's gone!"

"No!" she yelled, pushing Sam off her. He watched as her eyes glowed blue as she laid her hands over Dean's wound. There was a loud ringing and a flash of white light.

When the light cleared, Sam saw Dean blink and take in a large breath, sitting up. Cas smiled and threw her arms around him, "What the hell Cas? I'm okay! I'm okay!" he exclaimed.

"Because Cas healed you," Sam said softly, smiling at his older brother, tears beginning to pour down his face.

Dean blinked in astonishment at Cas, "You did? And you're okay?" he cradled her face between his hands as she nodded, tears streaming down her face too, "What's wrong?"

Sobbing, she grabbed his shoulders and buried her face in the curve of his neck, "You almost died, you stupid son of a bitch! And you're worried about me?" she looked up at him, "Don't do that again."

Both Sam and Cas insisted that Dean get rest immediately and, surprisingly, he didn't put up a fight. He was already stripped down to his boxers and underneath the covers when he heard a knock at the door, "Come in."

It was Cas. She was dressed in her over-large dress shirt and she sat on the edge of Dean's bed, "How are you?"

"I'm good. I bounce back fast," he chuckled, "You?"

She squinted in a very stereotypical- Cas way, "I'm fine, physically. But... I'm worried... uneasy about leaving you."

"Why? You fixed me good as new," Dean said.

Cas put a hand to Dean's cheek, "You nearly died in my arms, Dean. Almost left me before I could say..."  
His heart pounded harder in his chest, "Say what?"

She licked her lips nervously, "Dean... I..." But Dean cut her off by putting his lips against hers. She hummed contentedly and leaned into him. When his tongue slid lightly over her lower lip, she opened her mouth to entwine her tongue with his.

Kissing Cas was exactly how Dean imagined, even with the change in body. Her lips, though chapped, were soft beneath his. When her hands roamed over his chest he could feel his heart race beneath her touch. He tore open her shirt and let his hands explore her torso. When he touched her breasts, she gasped and kissed him even more fiercely. Pulling Cas down to the bed, he flipped over, pinning her beneath him.

"God, Cas..." he moaned, "You feel so good." He kissed down her neck and to her sternum, licking and sucking each breast in turn, relishing the noises she made.

"Dean," Cas whimpered. When he looked back up at her, she kissed him and said, "Make love to me, Dean."

Crashing their mouths together again, Dean let his hands make their way down to the elastic of her panties. He removed them swiftly and slid one finger gently inside her. Cas dug her nails into his back, biting his lower lip. Taking that as encouragement, he added another finger, careful not to hurt her. Feeling Cas, wet and hot around around his fingers and sucking bruises along his collarbone, was making him painfully hard. He rocked his hips into Cas', making her gasp at his arousal. With more ferocity than he expected, Cas pulled down his boxers, letting him spring free. She wrapped a petite hand around his length and began to stroke. He groaned in pleasure, jutting his hips forward into her hand.

"God, I want you so bad," he whispered into her long dark hair, trailing his fingers over her clit and into her again.

"I want you too..." she murmured, between kisses anywhere she could reach, "Please, Dean."

Not wanting to wait anymore, he lined himself up and, locking green eyes with blue, slid into her. She let out a soft cry at the fullness and soft moans of his name once he began to thrust. He couldn't hear exactly what she was saying, but he was pretty sure that she was speaking enochian. The words sounded like music on her lips. "Cas," he moaned, unable to stop himself, "Oh god Cas, you're so beautiful." He kept saying things until they didn't make sense anymore. It was heaven, being buried deep in Cas. Better than he could have ever imagined. Even if it wasn't the way he thought it would happen, it was better than he deserved. He could feel the pressure building in his core and he sped up his pace, pressing his lips to Cas' again.

"Dean," Cas whimpered, "I love you."

"Mmm, Cas, I love you too," Dean moaned.

With a cry, Cas contracted around him, causing his orgasm to follow. They gripped each other tight, breathing heavily. Gently, Dean pulled out and fell down beside Cas. She moved closer and laid her head on his chest.

"I'm happy that this vessel pleases you," Cas whispered.

Dean put a hand under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze, "Cas, that's not why I... I've wanted to be with you for ages. Since the first time I saw you. I love you. Not your vessel. When everything is back to normal, nothing will change between us. I swear. Please, believe me."

Cas put her head back on his chest and whispered, "I believe you."

Wrapping his arms around her, he slipped into sleep.

But he woke again after what felt like only moments. He could only hear harsh retching sounds and coughing coming from the small water closet attached to his room. Putting on his boxers, he went to investigate. These coughs sounded lower and gruffer than before. He peered into the small room. Cas was there, leaning over the toilet, stark naked. But, he was back to normal.

"Cas?" Dean said apprehensively. He got down on his knees next to Cas, who coughed again and turned to face Dean. He was sweating profusely and was deathly pale. He opened his mouth to say something but began to collapse instead. Dean reached out and caught him, watching as he coughed up bits of grace and blood. Scooping Cas up, he carried him back to the bed. There, he cradled the dying angel. "You bastard," he spat, "You shouldn't have saved me."

"Dean," Cas choked finally, his blue eyes finding the green of Dean's, "What will it take to convince you that you deserve to be saved?" He coughed, his throat flashing dimly with grace, blood bubbling at his chapped lips, "No matter what," he touched the Mark of Cain, "You will always be my righteous man."

A few tears dropped from Dean's eyes as he kissed Cas sweetly, "And you'll always be my angel." He let out a soft sob, "Every little thing you do is magic," he tried to sing in his broken voice, "Every thing you do just turns me on. Even though my life before was tragic, now I know my love for you goes on." he smoothed the hair back from Cas' sweaty forehead, "I love you, Castiel. Forever."

He smiled weakly, growing warm in Dean's arms, "I love you... Dean." His breathing faltered. Dean could feel the grace burning out and he clutched Cas to his chest. He felt a flash of searing pain across his chest and then... Nothing.

Looking down, he chocked back his wail of sorrow. Cas' eyes were still open, his lips still forming Dean's name. But all the spark was gone. He kissed each eyelid as he eased them closed. He could see the imprint of one of Cas' wings on his bed spread. Upon inspecting himself, he saw the other wing had been scorched into his chest, angry red burns creating the outline of feathers. He could feel the Mark of Cain burning with his grief, but he pushed it down. He wrapped his arms around the lifeless angel and lay down, holding him all night but never sleeping.

Sam found him holding Castiel's body in the morning, Dean's eyes red from all the tears. But now, he had no more tears. He only felt the void where Castiel had been and the burn of where his wing had marked him. Everything else was gone. It had died with the love of his life. And now, the Mark pulsed with purpose. Dean had everything he needed. He was ready to kill Abbadon. He had nothing to lose.


End file.
